24
Champagne Cupcakes
[Hank]
I’ve looked at my phone five million times waiting for her call. I told her to let me know what happens as soon as she’s done. Pendelton’s car was delivered around ten this morning, and her meeting was at nine. Brut wanted assurance Midge would make it through the door. He didn’t trust the man who’s been a thorn in our ass for years with his fancy cars and demanding schedule. This rich dick’s toys are our livelihood. Brut’s interest in Midge’s future warms my chest but also makes me want to punch him. He has a crush on my girl—correction, woman—and he pisses me off.
“Well, aren’t you all romantic?” Brut teases me as I sit at Midge’s desk, staring at the wildflower arrangement and the champagne cupcake in a cellophane package. Lily outdid herself with this one. The frosting shimmers with silvery candy that looks little bubbles from the foam at the top of a flute of champagne. Even the cupcake wrapper looks goldish like the celebratory bubbly, and I thought it would be a nice surprise for my cupcake instead of a glass of the real deal.
“Shut up,” I whisper harshly, but a smile tugs at my lips. I want to celebrate with her. She worked hard for this, and I’m happy for her success. She deserves it.
“You really like her, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” My face heats, then I admonish myself. What am I, fifteen?
It reminds me of last night …
When she finished her designs, she was relieved at the final product and convinced it was the best she could offer Pendelton. I decided to take his Bentley for a final ride and invited Midge. We climbed through the hills north of Los Angeles as the sun set off in the west. Pulling over at a lookout, we sit for a minute, quiet in the silence of a day ending. She needs to get home tonight. The boys will be waiting, plus she needs to rest before tomorrow, but I’m happy to have this stolen moment. The words I love you sit in my cheeks. I want to tell her these things but worry it’s too much too soon.
Her hand covers mine, stroking my wrist and thumbing over the bracelets I’ve begun wearing again.
“Thank you for this. It’s beautiful.” She stares at the sunset, but I watch her.
“So are you.” She turns to me, and the need to kiss her takes all my thoughts. I’m ready to give her the quick kiss, just a brush, just a touch, anything to connect with her, but I can’t. I need more. My mouth lingers, my lips tasting, savoring. She leans forward, and within seconds, we are a heated mess, making out like two teenagers parked on a hill in the growing dark.
“I need to get you home,” I say, and she laughs. We both recognize the irony of a curfew—only in her case, it’s because of her children.
“Have dinner with us.” The invitation startles me, but I can’t say no to her. I have nowhere to go, and I want to be with her. Before I can answer, she’s kissing me again, pressing into me as her body begs for more. More.
“I want to take you in this back seat,” I mutter against her lips. She breaks away and surprises me by climbing over the seats.
“Come join me,” she says, patting the leather interior. There’s no way I can hike my body over the front seat like she did, so I push open the driver’s door and enter through the back, laying her out as I stretch into the rear of the vehicle. I’m too big for the space and sensing our position won’t work, she presses on me.
“Sit up,” she says, her breaths rasping. We shift, and she straddles me, but not before she loosens my pants and frees me from them so my ass hits the cool leather. Her dress looks like a long t-shirt, and she wiggles to remove her underwear. I chuckle at her haste.
“In a hurry?” I question, holding my breath for some reason.
“Greedy,” she says, throwing her legs over mine and positioning me at her entrance. She’s slick and ripe and I want inside. “Condom?”
Ah, the responsible thing. She picks on me for having an endless supply, but I assure her it’s only so I’m ready for when she wants me. But one day, I’d like to bare inside her again. I struggle for my wallet, balancing her on my lap. She distracts me as she nibbles my neck and licks the shell of my ear. Once covered, I’m under her, forcing her hips downward, allowing her to swallow me.
“Fuck, that feels so good.” I exhale at entering her, the sensation never ceasing to amaze me. I love how she wraps around me. I love her, and again, the words whisper over my tongue.
Within minutes, she rocks in a way I know means she’s close; she’s found her rhythm.
“Hank,” she cries softly, “come with me.” I can’t time it like that. It just happened the other night when we were wild on the couch in the office. I love how pliable she is, willing to let me experiment with her and move her in the ways I like.
“Right there, baby,” I say, encouraging her to go for it. She lets go, digging her short nails into my shoulders, her hips stilling as she clenches over me. Her head comes to my shoulder as she presses her lips against my neck. I follow her lead and release, filling her with my seed. The experience is better than watching fireworks. I see color all the same, though, as this woman does that to me.
“I love you,” she whispers, pressing light kisses over my neck. She says it so softly, I take a second to decipher what she said. The pause costs me. I’m not quick enough, and she sits up. Looking down at my chest, avoiding my eyes, she doesn’t miss a beat in ignoring what she just said.
“Dinner?” Her voice isn’t its typical strength.
“Midge, I…” She’s already pulling off me, squirming to the seat and hustling on her underwear. She continues to avoid my gaze.
“My boys must be starving by now. Come have dinner with us. It will be fun.” Still offering the invitation tells me she hasn’t changed her mind, but my grip on this situation slips with each second. Her clothing straightened, she opens the back door.
“Midge, wait—” I’m too late. She reenters through the passenger door while I’m still tucking myself back in my jeans. Facing forward, she watches the sliver of sunshine disappear.
“It really was beautiful,” she says quietly, and my heart drops.
I return to the present, fingers spinning the glass vase. Brut has wandered off, and my phone vibrates in my other hand.
“Hey baby, how’d it go?”
“It didn’t.” Instantly, I’m on edge at the sadness in her tone.
“What happened?”
“He didn’t show. His assistant took the presentation.”
“What the fuck?”
“Pendelton was detained, Julian said.” She sighs.
“Who’s Julian?” I lean back in her chair, swiping back and forth at the hair on my head.
“Julian Pendelton, his assistant and his son.”
“Motherfucker.”
“He liked the presentation well enough. Told me his dad would have the final say, though, and he’d pass on the information. Then he asked me to lunch. I thought he was being nice. Trying to soothe my disappointment since his dad didn’t show. When I declined, he asked me out for drinks. Said he thought there might be a way we could ensure I’d work with them.”
“He was fucking hitting on you.”
“Maybe,” she says, her voice lowering.
“No maybe. You are not fucking working for him.” I don’t know where the demand comes from, but I’m ready to punch someone and sight unseen Julian Pendelton is the man.
“Well, I appreciate the command,” she snips, “but as I didn’t get the job, I won’t have to worry about it.”
“You don’t know the old man won’t still hire you.” I swallow the bitter thought of her working for someone like Julian Pendelton. He’s a sexual harassment case waiting to happen. Then again, I’ve been flirting and fucking her for almost two weeks now. It’s not the same thing, I immediately think.
“That isn’t how it works, Hank. If I don’t get to show Pendelton myself, it’s a firm pass on the campaign.” Her voice shakes, and I worry she’ll cry.
“What can I do?”
“Nothing.” She exhales deeply again. “I don’t know what I was thinking, quitting my job at forty-one when I have three kids still in school. I must have been crazy to think I could do this.”
“Stop,” I bark. “I don’t want you talking like this. We’ll figure something out. Pendelton is an asshole.” I’m huffing mad, body trembling with the need to crush something. This isn’t fair. Midge Everette is one of the nicest people I’ve ever known. She worked damn hard on his campaign, and she doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment.
“We,” she whispers, the heartache slipping through the phone.
“Let me take you out tonight. Let’s just hang.” I’m brushing through my hair, fingers digging tunnels I’m getting so worked up. I want to comfort her.
“My boys are home. It’s pizza-movie night.” She pauses a moment, and I think about how I didn’t end up going to her house last night after my lost opportunity to tell her how I feel. “I think I’d like to just be home tonight.”
“Let me come over.” I’m practically begging. “My treat for pizzas.” I need to do something.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“I want to come over,” I snap. I do, half thinking I might just show up even if she says no.
“Okay.” Her voice returns to a small sound. “How about six?”
+ + +
When she opens the door, her frame looks even smaller although she smiles weakly. Her boys are fighting in the background.
“Deciding on a movie appropriate for all three of them is becoming more difficult.” I imagine the seventeen-year-old no longer wants to watch age-appropriate animation for a ten-year-old, but then again, the things I witnessed at ten were not cartoons. “Normally, blood and guts win.” She chuckles lightly, leading me to her couch. Pizzas already cover her coffee table. Cans of soda line the edge of the surface.
“Green Lantern or Hurt Locker?” Liam asks me. I look at Midge for support. She mouths Green Lantern, and I offer the suggestion. Elston groans, but Ronin high-fives Liam.
“Mom wants that one so she can drool over Ryan Reynolds,” Elston mocks. “He’s so cute, ew, ew, ew…”
The boys laugh, and Midge smirks. “I do not act like that, and I don’t think he’s cute.” Her eyes shift to me, and my eyebrow rises.
“You can’t say a girl thinks someone else is cute in front of her boyfriend,” Liam states, serious and worldly at ten. Midge’s mouth falls open, and I chuckle.
Boyfriend? I mouth. She shakes her head, the weak smile returning. She sits near me on the couch but not close enough, so I reach out for the back of her neck, trying to make it appear as if I’m only resting my arm on the edge of the cushions. I massage lightly.
“How do you know this stuff?” Ronin asks.
“Carson says—”
“Ugh, not Carson,” Ronin groans, covering his head with his hands.
“Who is Carson?” I whisper to Midge.
“Carson is Mick’s little brother. Mick is Elston’s best friend, and everything Carson knows about girls he learned from those two, which is nothing,” Ronin explains, and Elston leans over the armrest and punches the arm of his younger brother who sits on the floor.
“Don’t fight,” Midge interjects, but the smile returns to her voice. Her shoulders relaxing under my massage.
“It’s true. Carson also says you shouldn’t talk about other girls in front of the girl you like. This only makes her jealous,” Liam continues spewing his female wisdom. My head turns in his direction where he sits on the other side of his mother.
“You know what else you should do?” I offer and realize I have Elston’s attention from across the room. “You should tell a girl how you feel about her. Be honest.”
Midge closes her eyes while my fingers work to loosen the tension in her neck.
“You can’t do that,” Ronin interjects. “She might not like you back.” Elston snorts and returns his attention to his phone.
“Then again, she might like you back.” I glance at Ronin a moment before turning to his mother. Her eyes remain shut.
“I don’t even like any of the girls at my school,” Liam interjects. Ronin coughs, and Elston mutters something under his breath.
“Don’t say that,” Midge reprimands Elston, and then turns to Liam. “That’s right, honey. No girls for you yet. You’re too young.”
“I kissed my first girl at eleven,” Elston adds, portraying false bravado.
“Triple gold stars for you,” Ronin snaps, rolling his eyes at his older brother.
“Who?” Midge asks, her attention on her firstborn.
“Maggie Schuster.”
“What?” Midge laughs while Ronin says, “Why?”
“Because she wanted me to,” Elston says nonchalantly, but something in his tone hints he wanted to kiss her as well.
“Elston,” Midge shrieks.
“It doesn’t really matter who you kiss first, kid. It’s who you kiss last.” I tighten my squeeze on Midge’s neck, but she doesn’t glance over at me.
“Can we watch the movie yet?” Liam groans. “I’m tired of talking about girls.”
“That’s right. You are only allowed to love me,” Midge teases, curling her arm around her son’s neck. He falls against his mom and remains there when she loosens her hold. My fingers toy with the collar of her shirt, and she turns her head to press her cheek against my fingers. She rubs her face against my fingers for a moment and then rights her head. I only want to love her as well.
The movie starts, and the boys interject throughout the show. Midge eventually leans against me while Liam stays tucked against her. The atmosphere warms my insides like hot coffee after a sleepless night. I’m comfortable here, enjoying her boys and their chatter. It reminds me of all I once had. A nice place of my own. A collection of people I considered friends. It also reminds me of all I long for. A family. Whatever tomorrow brings, I know I’ll never have what Midge has here with her boys.
Unless I marry her.
My head swings in her direction, and I lower my lips to kiss her hair. My eyes shoot up to find Elston watching me. He looks away slowly, but Midge settles into me. I definitely want this. Every night.
Yeah, kid, the only woman who matters is the one you kiss last.